Dead on Arrival by Micheal Maxwell (Flynt & Steele Mysteries #3)
English | 2020| Mystery/Thriller| ePUB | 2.8 MB
Micheal Maxwell’s books are character-driven with twists, turns, and page-turning plots, which are never heavily sexual, or profanity-laced.
Dirty secrets. A dirty cop. And a loaded Syringe.
A dead Paramedic found with a syringe stuck in her chest. A junkie is found with stolen drugs from her ambulance. Too neat? Too Easy?
But something’s not quite right. Captain Weidman has got his hate up for Flynt more than usual. Blocked and hassled by the entire force every step of the way, are they getting too close to the thin blue line?
What is the secret thread running through the case, and what does Flynt know that he’s not telling? Who will step up and peel back the lies and reveal the truth?
This time it’s for keeps for Flynt and Steele. They’re either all in or they have to fold under threat of getting fired. Or much worse. If they don’t watch their backs they might wind up dead on arrival too!
Sarah Stills is a committed warrior in the battle to do her part for the environment. But struggling with the over-stuffed and badly worn hemp grocery bags made her miss the good old days of plastic bags; double-bagged, smaller, and you could tie a knot with the handles. Sure, they ripped now and then, but there were three times as many, and it meant more trips to the car but they were so much easier to manage. Sarah just knew somewhere in the universe Mother Nature was scolding her for that. Still, she wished tonight she had plastic.
Her neighbor Frances Humphrey is an eighty-one-year-old woman that suffers from just about every malady known to man. Her mind is still sharp as a tack, but her bones are brittle and her lungs are all but toast. So, Sarah, trying to be a good neighbor and create peace in the world, did as much as she could for her. She would cut Frances’s grass, do her grocery shopping, pick up her many prescriptions, and even take her to the doctor when her work schedule allowed. Pay it forward, that was Sarah’s motto. She honestly didn’t mind.
Frances is one of the sweetest women Sarah ever met. The woman would go on and on with her life stories (which was an astonishing feat, given her weak lung capacity) and always insisted on rewarding Sarah with some of the most disgusting persimmon cookies she’d ever tasted. But other than that, Sarah enjoyed her time with Frances. Sarah reminded herself of that as she lugged the bags of groceries across her yard and into Frances’s.
An ugly old hedge that stood about eight feet high was the only thing separating their properties. It was this overgrown hedge that kept Sarah from seeing that the side door to Frances’s house was open. The side yard light caught her attention. This was a strange occurrence. Sarah went around the hedge to find the door was standing wide open, which doesn’t bode well for an eighty-one-year-old woman’s house. Since she no longer drove and the carport removed long ago, Frances never used the side entrance; just the front or back.
Sarah skipped going to the front door. In her rush to investigate she nearly dropped the bag with the eggs. Her single woman instinct kicked in. She was sure this was not just some fluke occurrence. Did Frances go outside through the side door for some reason? Did she forget to close the door behind her? Something about that side door being open just wasn’t right. By the time Sarah reached it, she was running. When she stepped up on the stoop, a pack of bologna fell to the ground, unnoticed.